The Morning-Of...
I woke up at 4AM, already with a headache and an upset stomach. Perhaps it was just the nerves of the day, but all of a sudden, I was a hypochondriac.
I drank my morning coffee, the way I always do, and my stomach started gurgling. I'm lactose intolerant. I'm nauseous right now. I must obviously be pregnant. My sinuses. My sciatica. Literally, everything.
Eventually, my husband was able to gather me up, despite the fact that I was a blubbering puddle of anxiety, and we made our way to the Pearson Professional Center. I attempted to get myself pumped with music, trying to see if I could channel my nerves into something productive, all the while attempting to cram regular lab values back into my head. I worked myself up a playlist and tried to shift my mind into a better place to take the biggest exam of my life.
"Killer Queen" - Queen
"Eye of the Tiger" - Survivor
"Lose Yourself" - Eminem
"Let it Go" - Idina Menzel
Well. You get the gist of it.
The Holding Cell
I arrived at Pearson about half an hour early, with their doors still closed and my hands still shaking, so I waited in the lobby with a few other students who had arrived for their exams as well. We chatted a little, vented anxieties, laughed about them a little, and passed the time until we were allowed into the Pearson office.
It was a small waiting room, only about the size of an average doctor's office, with lockers along one wall. The woman at the desk called u forward, asked what exam we were taking, and gave us each a sheet to read with information about the exam, similar to the information in the Candidate Bulletin online except much shorter. We were directed to come up and take a number when we finished. When my number was called, I handed over my ID, and was asked if I had a cellphone with me. It was sealed into a plastic bag and given back to me, with the direction not to tamper with it at all, and that I had to bring it back to the front desk when I was finished so they could cut it out for me. They had me place my hands on the scanner a few times for a vein scan, take a photo, then lock my things up and take the key. Within minutes, I was called up by the test administrator, and I received another set of instructions about what I could and could not do. From this spot, I could see that each little testing cubicle in the testing room was being monitored by a camera.
There was another vein scan, and the woman escorted me into the room, seating me at a cubicle and logging me in to my exam. She handed me a "white board" - a laminated piece of paper, actually - and a dry erase type marker.
In the Shark Tank
The testing room was a set of small partitioned cubicles, with an unimpressive Dell computer and headphones at each station. I was seated at station number 8, and directed to start. I slipped on the big headphones. There was an anti-climactic tutorial about different types of questions, how to use the calculator - all of those things. And then, the real fun began.
Now, before I say anything else, I will admit this: I went all the way. All the way to 265 questions. Keep that in mind.
I started getting SATA questions within the first 20 or 30, questions, and they kept coming. I had heard that this was a good sign, and I felt a surge of confidence. This test is shutting off at 75, a little voice said giddily. (No, not literally. I wasn't having hallucinations in the testing room, though I wouldn't have been surprised.) But then, question 76 came. My stomach was in knots.
This is crazy. This is a mistake. Everyone said the SATA questions were the sign. This test should be off.
I was thrown for a loop. I got spooked. I started rushing through questions, just wanting the test to end. My hands were freezing and shaking. Question 100 came. Question 150. I was still getting SATA questions, often in quick succession, but the test simply would not end. I was suddenly starting to feel hopeless, more and more so with every question that passed. I'm failing this, I decided to myself. I was going through questions, thinking them through as best as I could in hopes that each one would be the last, but in my head, I was already trying to figure out how I was going to save up to take this exam a second time, how I was going to afford a review course that I was beating myself up for not investing in in the first place.
Two hours passed. Question 265 came - another SATA. I was completely mortified. I had always made it just fine in school. I knew material. My school's pass rate is almost perfect - and yet I was 'that person'. The one who went all the way to 265. I was going to fail.
I had some inkling of hope still, but not much. I finished the survey at the end, raised my hand, and was walked out. Another vein scan before I pulled my things out of the locker, brought the bag containing my phone to the front desk, and got it back.
I failed, I told myself. I was completely assured that I had failed that exam so hard. I didn't even feel like I needed to check or try the Pearson Vue trick. I felt confident that I had just blown it, and I was internally beating myself up. But, I called my husband and said he could come pick me up now. I sat down in the lobby and glanced through my messages and Facebook notifications from family and friends, wishing me luck. I was going to have a heck of a time explaining this to them.
I sat in the lobby and waited for a while, just completely overwhelmed. I wasn't sad or angry. I was just exhausted. And then, my phone buzzed - and email from Pearson that started off with "Now that you've completed the NCLEX..." and gave a link with more information. The On the first page of the PDF was the question, "What does the number of items I answered tell me about my results?".
That was what jolted me to the realization that I was still in this game. The fat lady hadn't sung yet. I closed the file and pulled up the Pearson website on my phone. I went through the steps and tried to register. The Wi-Fi was horrifyingly slow, and the loading bar atop a blank page stared at me for what felt like ages.
And then... the good pop-up.
This is a joke, right? I shook my head, backed out of the page, and tried it again. Same pop-up. I finally felt some semblance of emotion after all of this experience. I was completely flabbergasted, having convinced that I had failed. Now, I'm waiting to see my official license posted, and it's not real yet. I'm not sure what happened, really. All the signs pointed to my test finishing early, if I go by what my friends and classmates said about theirs. But - 265 questions.
(UPDATE: I am officially a registered nurse! I passed, even with 265 questions!)
But, my fellow nursing school graduates, the moral of the story is this: never count yourself out. Maybe you feel shaken, but you still have a fighting chance.
No comments:
Post a Comment